The Perfect De-Stressor
by HerUnwrittenStories
Summary: Emily Prentiss takes on boxing classes with none other than Derek Morgan...how does Unit Chief Aaron Hotcher, who has been lusting after the brunette agent for a while, feel when a very sweaty and rather exposed Prentiss turns up at work with her buff colleague? (ONE-SHOT) NC-17


_Good morning/afternoon/evening, loves. This is my first Hotchniss fanfic, however it has been a niggling thought on my mind for a while now. Basically, later on it becomes explicitly sexual, but involves no intercourse. Feedback would be warmly welcomed as I would like to know if my readers want more Hotchniss. Plots, ships and prompts are also highly adored! Don't be afraid, I'll give anything a go._

_**Just a warning that this fanfic contains explicit content not suitable for young readers.  
**__**These characters are not mine - the plot is the only thing I can claim from this. **_

_**Feedback is very much welcomed and appreciated!**_

-C

Derek Morgan could persuade any woman into doing anything with him, and Emily Prentiss was no exception, nor was she resistant to his charming ways.

That's why she found herself standing in front of him, pink boxing gloves poised and ready to attack as she bounced lightly on her toes, ponytail swishing around rhythmically behind her. She was a mesmerising sight to every man, and even some women, in that class, with her flat yet lean stomach on display thanks to the black sports crop top she was wearing. Then there was her legs, long and slender, yet strong in the tight lycra shorts she wore to match her top, a pink sports logo on her firm, round bum. She was a picture of beauty, strength and health as she squared up to the buff man in front of her, thin brows knitted together in determination and concentration as she planned her attack.

"Come on, princess. Show me what you've got."

Derek was challenging her; though not to anger or taunt her, but to motivate her and encourage her into putting her all into the fight…which he knew she was capable of. She flashed him brilliant, toothy grin before throwing her first punch, giving him enough time to block it with his own gloves despite the sheer power she put into it. Emily looked small, but she sure had some hit on her, and Derek was realising this more and more with each class they took.

"That all?"

He was circling her now, and they had managed to capture the attention of other couples in the hall who gathered round to watch the two FBI agents show them how it's truly done. Emily swung her arm above his head, her glove bumping his temple in a firm but gentle manner as she danced rings around him, always light on her feet. She truly was magnificent — the epitome of what a woman should be.

"You didn't duck on time…little rusty this morning, handsome?" She teased, nudging his shoulder before wrapping her arm around his neck in a light headlock and rubbing his head affectionately as the crowd chuckled around them. Derek shot her a grin, a proud one, as his arm came around her petite waist and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Actually, I let —"

His sentence was cut short when he heard both his and Emily's phones vibrating furiously on the window ledge beside them, causing them both to groan and sigh in unison. It didn't look like they would be getting home and showered any time soon, judging by the demanding calls coming through to their phones. Emily got to hers first, using her teeth to pull off her glove as tuck it under her arm before holding the phone near her ear, but not quite touching it.

"Pen…it's Sunday morning and my day has been perfect so far, so please, bring me good news."

"Sorry, lovebug, but no can do. Bossman doesn't believe in relaxing Sundays…neither do serial killers, by the looks of it. Come on, we're all in the office already. Don't forget to bring my chocolate god along with you!" She chirped over the phone, yet there was an irritated edge to her tone at the fact she was dragged out of bed to face yet another day of gloom and terror. Only she and JJ knew about the boxing classes, which is how Emily assumed Penelope already knew she was with Derek. Garcia hung up before she could grumble a reply, and all she could do was curse under her breath as she yanked a gym towel from the rack and slung it around her shoulders.

"Come on, chocolate god. We have a case to solve."

She muttered just as Derek hung up on Hotch, his face grim and disappointed as he also grabbed a towel and followed behind her. There was definitely no time for showers, and they hadn't brought anything to change into…it looked like they were turning up at headquarters exactly how they were.

**BAUBAUBAUBAUBAUBAUBAU**

"Well, look at you two…talk about power couple of the year. Rawr!"

JJ wolf whistled teasingly as the two agents exited the lift and made their way into the bullpen, sweaty and irritated.

"Who knew you had a killer body, Em?" The blonde continued just as the rest of the team filled in to see what the fuss was about, all six eyes widening at the sight of the gym buddies.

"Yeah, well, don't get too excited…she hits like a girl." Derek teased, tossing his towel at Emily who was quick to catch it and whip his thigh with a scowl.

"And what exactly does a girl hit like? I consider that a compliment, 'baby boy'." She shot back, one glove still on her hand as she reached over in slow motion to playfully punch his firm abdomen.

None of this went amiss by their unit chief, Aaron Hotchner, whose eyes were intently focused on the brunette agent and the body she hid beneath the blouses and formal trousers. JJ was right: who knew Prentiss had such an impressive, fit, hot and rather irresistible physique? Hotch's eyes travelled from her long toned legs to her strong shoulders, his breath hitching slightly before his dark eyes landed on the glove pressing into Morgan's abs. He felt a sudden surge of jealousy...exactly how long had they both been working out together? What more of Prentiss did Morgan get to see that he didn't? He never knew when it all began, but the ever stoic and emotionless Hotchner had fallen hard for his subordinate throughout his years of knowing her, and her easy, flirtatious banter with Derek Morgan became more unbearable to him every minute.

"I want everyone in conference room. Now. Prentiss, Morgan, please find some more appropriate clothing before stepping foot into these offices again." He barked, though it wasn't anything strange; the team knew their boss was prone to crankiness and valued professionalism above all things, so they simply dispersed out of the bullpen. Emily bit her tongue: Hotch told them to come immediately, how on earth were they supposed to get changed in that small amount of time, so far from their apartments? Morgan shook his head to silence her, his arm resting on her shoulders as he steered her away and to the resource room where spare vests, clothes and equipment could be found. Hotch, yet again, watched as the man so comfortably slung his arm around Emily's shoulders, and once again he felt that primal, possessiveness urge to physically detangle the couple and remove Prentiss from Morgan's arms and into his own. But he pushed it aside, adopting his usual, stoney demeanour as he stalked into the conference room where JJ, Reid, Rossi and Garcia sat around the table with similar smirks on their lips as they watched their boss' inner confliction with his emotions.

"If I was ten years younger…" Rossi commented to break the silence, to which all agents but one sniggered behind their tablets and avoided their boss' harsh glare.

"Enough."

Boy, this was going to be a long day.

**BAUBAUBAUBAUBAUBAUBAU**

"So…boxing? Since when?" Hotch questioned Emily as soon as they were on the plane. She was across from him, a plain white blouse now covering her shamelessly perfect body, as well as a pair of comfortable yet formal slacks. A thin brow arched at his question, and she stopped thumbing through the case file in her hands to contemplate his question before giving him his answer.

"Two months ago. Morgan figured it would be the perfect 'de-stressor', as he called it. I admit, it does help. It's fun, and it gives me a chance to truly focus on my strength and my power," She paused, a small smirk playing on her lips as she added, much to his amusement, "Plus I get to put the macho Derek Morgan to shame with my fighting skills."

"I can see the appealing factors now." He commented dryly, though anyone who knew him well would know it was amusement in his fine, and not boredom or annoyance. He wouldn't dare display his jealousy openly, though he couldn't help but pry, so he asked casually, "And, these classes…have they spurred any spark in your friendship with Morgan?" He immediately noticed how painfully suspicious that sounded, so he hastily added, "As your superior, I need to know the exact nature of the relationships between my agents."

_Idiot_.

Emily didn't seem phased by the question — if anything she looked like she expected it — and she merely offered him a smile, accompanied by a negative shake of her head. "No spark, Sir. We're just friends and training partners. He's been good to me through hard times, and recently he's only proven that more." She inclined her head, her respect for the man evident in how affectionately she spoke of him as she glanced across at the dark agent listening to his music on the other side of the plane.

Hotch nodded, satisfied with that answer, despite the fact he couldn't shake away the visual memory of Morgan's arm around her shoulder, and her flirtatious tone when she punched the man's abdomen so playfully. He turned away, which gave Emily a moment to study the man and appreciate his handsome and masculine features. He had a strong, chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, and despite being broken several times, even his nose screamed perfection and masculinity. The woman had a thing for the man, that much was evident to her now, but she was careful not to show it and stay safely hidden in the role of 'subordinate' and 'colleague'.

But God, did she want him.

Everything about him was perfect to her, and she couldn't stop the sneaky glances and longing stares in his direction when he and the team weren't looking. Hotch, the dominant, protective, strong and brave leader of their team was the perfect mixture of exactly everything Emily Prentiss wanted, and needed, in a man. He was the ultimate alpha male, with a stubbornness to rival hers and passion and intensity that could sweep her off her feet. She crossed her legs under the table, a blush staining her cheeks as she looked away from her dream man to compose herself for a moment. Having him so near always did result in a very hot and bothered Prentiss, but she managed to hide it well and suppress her urge to crawl over onto his lap and show him exactly how appealing he was to her.

Hotch could feel her staring, but his thoughts kept him preoccupied as his mind wandered to her body in the gym gear. Her legs...so long, strong and sexy. He could already imagine them wrapped around his waist - or better, his head. He could practically hear her soft moans and whimpers as she clenched around him with strength he never knew she was capable of, as she opened herself up to the pleasure he was prepared to give her. He inwardly groaned, shifting his position before tearing his eyes away from the window and allowing them to land on the other members of the team to distract himself.

JJ was happily tucking into a packet of Cheetos, glancing at her phone every now and then, presumably for a message from Will, or a phone call from Henry. Reid, as always, was so wrapped up in his own world as his eyes rapidly scanned the pages of his book, turning the pages in literally seconds. Then there was Rossi, the terrible flyer, who was buckled safely in front of Morgan with his head propped onto his palm as he gazed at the back of the plane in deep thought. Morgan was in another world, headphones on and eyes closed as his foot tapped absently against Rossi's in time to whatever he was listening to.

Seeing them all together, so content in one another's presence like this despite what they were about to face, always brought a rare smile to his lips.

**BAUBAUBAUBAUBAUBAUBAU**

Hotch seethed from his office window, dark eyes boring into Prentiss and Morgan's yet again sweaty, post-boxing class selves that had rushed into the precinct the following week. Why did she insist on dressing in so little? Since when were comfortable slacks and baggy tshirts out of fashion when working out? In truth, he wasn't angry with his agent, more with himself for noticing every curve and defined muscle on her desirable body.

If affected him in ways one shouldn't be affected at work.

"Well, well, well...if it isn't our power couple of the year. Did you kick his ass this morning, E?"

Garcia's cheerful chirping only aggravated Hotch more - the team had taken to calling Morgan and Prentiss the 'power couple' of the office. Even agents and officers outside their office were joining in! He didn't like it, not one bit. Not many people would pin Aaron Hotchner down as the possessive type, but he found that when it came to Emily Prentiss, the mere thought of anyone enjoying the sight of her, especially when she looked as tempting as she did after boxing, ticked off a nerve that hadn't ever been discovered before.

Jealousy.

Oh, yes, he was jealous of Derek Mogan's relationship with the brunette, and it only intensified with each playful and flirtatious comment or gesture the pair shared together in his presence. It actually made him wonder what was said and done when he wasn't around. But push had come to shove, and Hotch had had more than enough of dancing around this goddess.

He wanted her.

"Prentiss? Resource room. Now. Morgan, stay where you are. You're dressed much less provocatively." He ordered the younger man, who had choses this time to wear a black vest and loose grey bottoms. Emily flushed scarlet, more in anger than embarrassment, but followed behind him without another word. She saw the way he looked at him; there was fury in his eyes and she was sure she saw some disgust there too. He obviously thought little of her for dressing in such a way, and he was going to berate her about it in private.

Why did she have to be so stupid? Sure, a part of her thought that her gym toned body would impress her boss, and another part sincerely hoped he enjoyed it...but it didn't seem to have the desired effect. In fact, now the tables turned on her and she felt a familiar heat between her legs as she trailed behind him, downstairs to the abandoned resource room.

Why did he have to be so hot when he was angry?

"I trust you know the appropriate attire for work." He muttered, unlocking the heavy door and holding it open for her as she breezed past. She smelled of feminism and vanilla as she passed, and he had to hold back a strangled groan as his eyes momentarily fell onto her mesmerising bum as she took the lead.

"I know." She bit out angrily, not bothering to look behind her as she yanked open the wardrobe with blouses her size and rifled through them. She was officially humiliated as she stood there, a sheet of sweat still covering her glistening body while she searched for decent clothing in front of her boss.

"I thought I told you not to step foot in the precinct again without proper FBI clothing."

"Yeah, well, in both instances you didn't really give us enough time to change. Next time, let me know I have time for a shower and a quick fresh up...believe me, I'll appreciate it." She retorted sarcastically, to which he replied with raising a sardonic brow.

"There will be no next time."

His words were quiet, almost dangerously so, and it was enough to stop her in her search for a blouse as her head whirled round and her eyes met his.

Then she saw it. Plain and unmistakable. Darkening and clouding his eyes as he watched her with an intensity that only made that familiar heat go crazy.

Desire.

Lust.

"You sound confident, Sir." She tested, her arms falling by her side as she took a step away from the wardrobe and shot him a quizzical look. "How can we be certain it won't happen again?"

Hotch sensed the challenge in her tone, and he rose to the bait like a feral lion on a hunt.

"Because I won't allow it to get this far again." He commented tersely, mentally swearing to himself that he wouldn't allow himself to experience such jealousy again. He knew it was wrong — they were colleagues after all — but this had been going on too long and his instincts told him to make his move now. Before it was too late.

"Again, you sound —"

She never got to finish her accusation, and Hotch would never know how she planned to finish that sentence, because in mere seconds he was on front of her, his large hands on her slim waist as he dragged her body flush against his. His lips descended on hers with passion and intensity neither had experienced, and he kissed her firmly just to prove exactly why she would never do this again.

Because she was his.

Emily let out a small whimper against his lips in a moment of submissiveness, before the woman soon took control and wound her arms around his neck, lips moving against his and tongue massaging the roof of his mouth as she pressed her body as close to him as humanly possible. That's what she needed to feel. Him. Hotch. Close to her. Touching her. Now she knew why she found his anger appealing; his passion intensified and the ever in control man seemed to lose that famous self control, allowing him to take what he wanted.

And in this case, Emily was what he wanted.

"Hotch..." She muttered against his lips, yet didn't pull away as she felt his tongue tracing her lips before he finally took her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged on it lightly. A small groan emanated from her chest as she desperately fisted her hands in his suit jacket and yanked him impossibly closer. Neither of them had the patience or the desire to be gentle: this was a battle for dominance.

"Don't speak." He growled, his lips now trailing down her neck as his hands skimmed down her sides before he took hold of her perfect round globes and squeezed harshly, fingers digging into the firm flesh. Every gasp, moan and whisper that he managed to pull from her only boosted his confidence, and he jammed his thigh between her lips as he forcefully rocked her hips back and forth on the surprisingly muscly part of his leg. While he wanted to hear her, he had to silence her several times with firm kisses, harsh whispers, or sometimes the occasional pinch, which she seemed to love.

"I mean it, Prentiss. Be quiet." He groaned against her neck after she let out another long moan, this one exaggeratedly loud as she pulled at his tie and untucked his shirt from his black pants. She didn't take the order well, naturally, so she made a point of moaning particularly loudly when her fingers met with his chest beneath the shirt, nails digging in to the flesh speckled with dark hair as she crushed her lips against his once again. She rocked shamelessly on his thigh, grateful for the position and also his encouraging hands on her ass, pulling her more roughly each time.

"Hotch..." She repeated again, her head dropping forward as she rested her forehead against his and panted eagerly against his lips. Her hands had moved from his chest to clutch onto his biceps as he offered her perfect friction against his strong thigh, her orgasm nearing with each thrust. At that moment, Aaron didn't seem to care about the erection straining against his pants; he was captivated by her breathy moans, her glistening neck, her long lashes as they fluttered closed, and the way her body fit so perfectly with his as she rocked herself into obliviation.

"Aaron...oh!" She held on tightly, tossing her head back and letting out a low, guttural moan as she clenched her thighs around his and climaxed hard, his name falling from her lips as though it was natural. Taking advantage of her exposed neck, he latched his teeth onto her tender skin and bit down lightly, before kissing the red mark and muffling a groan in the crook of her neck as she came down from her powerful orgasm. Her body trembled, but she didn't pull away as she clung onto him and suddenly pulled him into a fierce kiss, still panting harshly against his lips as she pulled her legs further up his body to wrap them around his waist.

"That's what I've been missing? Jeez, boss..." She murmured breathlessly against his lips, amusement laced in her tone as she kissed the corner of his lips before trailing small kisses along his strong jaw. Hotch stayed quiet, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips as his fingers traced the arch of her back and his hips unconsciously twitched against hers. Did he have any regrets? No, he did not. Yet there was that unmistakable feeling of overwhelming fear in his gut...but fear of what, he didn't know. Losing her? Getting caught? Letting his guard down? Entering another relationship? These thoughts vanished within seconds thanks to Emily's hesitant hand slipping between them to cup his rock hard cock through his pants, massaging the straining erection teasingly.

"Your turn."

Before he could object, she had removed himself from her leg and was tugging his tie once again, this time backwards until they reached the door. That was when she switched positions, taking control over the situation and pressing him back against the door as she captured his lips in a feverish kiss and worked on undoing the tie she used to lead him with. A smirk was on her lips, though it took a lot of nerve for her to act so bold in front of anyone — especially her boss —, and to allow this inner wild side to show.

"Tell me." She whispered, her palm pressed against his cock as she skilfully unbuttoned his shirt with one hand and kissed his neck teasingly. "Tell me." She repeated, dark eyes meeting those of her boss' as she parted his shirt and finally ran her hand up his chest, revelling in his subtly muscular and lean physique.

"I thought I told you to be quiet?" He practically growled, suddenly threading his fingers in her hair and pulling her lips back to his before nipping at her tongue in an animalistic and dominant manner. Her hand on his aching cock felt too good to be true; it wasn't enough, but he would never beg her. His kiss screamed dominance as his tongue mapped out every inch of her hot mouth, massaging her tongue before running along each tooth. He then pulled back, nipping at her lower lip with a sudden harshness before he kissed it apologetically and grasped her hand with his own free one. With a low groan, he held her hand in place and bucked against her palm, teeth grazing against her chin as his head dropped forward and he arched away from the door to inch closer to her sinful yet magical touch.

"Touch me." He finally grunted, his desire overtaking his pride as he pressed her hand more forcefully into his bulging erection while he rutted desperately against it. Emily nipped at his ear before sucking on his earlobe, moaning quietly at his sudden display of dominance, before she once again took over. Her hand cupped him through his pants, squeezing occasionally before massaging once again. She wanted to feel him; to feel his hot and heavy cock in her hand as she stroked him to orgasm, swiping her thumb across the head of his erection until he came into her hand. She wanted that badly, but she didn't want to overstep the boundaries.

"Feel me, Aaron...enjoy me." She whispered huskily into his ear, surprising herself with the sudden bold talk as she palmed, cupped and squeezed his swollen cock in her hand while her fingers toyed with his sensitive nipples. That was a part of him no woman had ever paid attention to, and it brought his orgasm rushing to its peak as he suddenly grasped her wrist again and pressed himself against it, his warm cum seeping through his pants and dampening her hand as he clutched at her desperately and allowed his head to drop back against the door.

"Oh, fu- Prenti- Emily! Yes..." He hissed through his teeth, trying to stay as quiet as possible as he bucked into her palm one last time before slumping back against the door, chest heaving and heart pounding as he came down from one of the most powerful orgasms he had experienced in a while. They practically brought each other off by dry humping like teenagers in a resource room, yet still it was the most intense and certainly the most pleasurable sexual experience he had had...all because of Emily. His sexy, irresistible, strong, passionate subordinate who he now considered to be more to him than that.

He had marked her; it showed on her neck, the purpling bruise contrasting beautifully with her pale skin as she stood before him, chest rising and falling as she pressed herself against him with a content sigh. He had more plans in mind — the main plan being to kiss and lick every inch of her, especially now that he had seen her goddess-like body — but he knew they had to wait. They had already spent a suspicious amount of time away from the team, and now Hotch had a noticeable problem down below...

**BAUBAUBAUBAUBAUBAUBAU**

The team tried not to snigger as both agents returned, Aaron Hotchner evidently wearing a completely different pair of pants than he left the room wearing, and Emily Prentiss sporting a polo neck, which was highly unlike her. The meeting was brief and to the point, given their cranky attitude and Hotch's eagerness to get on the jet and to the crime scene as soon as possible. It wasn't until they were prepared to leave when Hotch grabbed Emily's arm and led her into his office to utter the words he longed to say for a while.

"It won't happen again because you are mine. What we did today, is now something only I can do to you, Emily, do you understand? Your body, your smile, even your flirtatious ways...it's all mine now. I stake claim on all of you."

"Yes, Aaron, and the same applies for you. This training partner of yours..." Emily's expression darkened, though only briefly, before she added jokingly, "Well...I think I've found an even more perfect de-stressor than boxing."


End file.
